I confess last night I went over to the apartment of this guy I barley know and let him fuck the shit out of me.

We have several mutual friends and had talked on facebook/texted a bit before but I'd never actually met him in real life. It was him and some of his friends (one of our mutual friend's ended up showing up too) and we were drinking and smokin and just hangin out. As the night wore on he and I went into his room where we fucked loudly and roughly for like, two hours. He slapped my ass as hard as he could and pounded into my pussy like his life depended on it. He wanted to cum on my face but I didn't wanna ruin my makeup, so I took his whole cock in my mouth and swallowed up all his cum. When I got home later I realized he'd fucked me so hard I was bleeding!

Now my pussy is SOOO fucking sore and all I can think about is letting him fuck me again, even harder. I'd love for him to choke me:)

I confess, it turns me on so fucking bad when my girlfriend tells me about her sexual past. She's bi AND had always loved sucking cock. So many other naughty shit she has done. When she talks about stuff while sucking my cock, or fucking its all I can do to control myself and not cum.

Wife loves fucking weird shit but she is not sure of this thing....yet

My sister came over to watch the Super Bowl at my place. She said she was going to bring some friends, but ended up coming by herself.

This is her version of half time entertainment!

I fucked her in the pussy, I fucked her in the ass, then I made her clean her shit off my cock with her mouth.

She loved every bit of it! It got me so hard to have her sucking her shit off my cock that we started all over again!

Who won the damn game anyway???

there's a part of me the wants to let the whore out of me and fuck everyone, but then there's a part of me that knows its wrong.

treat me like shit and i'll love it.

This unassuming girl is actually a scat princess loves playing with her own shit!

motherless why delete my photo with 2.455 views this has made me mad she was not underage as i know this girl shes 18 but u deleted it so your a bunch of pricks and eat shit and ban me i dont give a crap you fucking stupid dumb ass site

to the owner of this site you a cock sucking ho with no fucking one that loves you and hope this site gets shut down asap
BadBoyAndy

Beyond the Horizon

Part 1

One of the lessons you learn after years of driving is that at some point or another, you’re going to experience the pain of repetition and predictability. Even when I first started off on the journey, I never had a destination in mind. It’s like as soon as I sat down and closed the door, it was getting hazy. It’s apparent to me now that from the moment I turned that old key and fired her up I was totally unsure of to exactly where I thought I was going. Driving is one of my greatest pleasures. There’s a sincere innocence in the act of driving. I lost sight of much of that, and from time to time I wasn’t sure if I was even in control. From a certain perspective the relationship between the machine and it’s controller breaks down, and it can become objectively difficult to distinguish which is driven by which.

To be fair, the warning signs were all over the place. It felt like I couldn’t go more than ten seconds without some sign, a precaution, a rule, a rule of thumb, a word of advice whispered in confidence. I always did my best to be a responsible driver. For the longest time I did my best to obey all the rules of the road, back before I knew better, or perhaps until I thought I knew better. Experience is the greatest teacher, not to mention the harshest. It’s common knowledge that to learn from experience makes even the worst decisions worthwhile. Sometimes it’s simply the only thing that one can take away from the curveballs so often thrown one’s way. The problem for the unwise lies in working out what lesson the accused is to take away from his crime. For the introspective the problem is rarely not seeing the problem at hand. They can even take precautions to make sure that one accident is never repeated, by not repeating whatever lead to disaster the first time around. For the experienced, and by that I mean the scarred, the disfigured, those drivers who possibly still hurt every waking day of their lives, there are an entirely different set of problems, regardless of their ability to learn from past experiences. The problem faced by the salty, by the ones who well and truly drove around that block more than they care to admit, is the inability to disengage from what they think they know best, and in doing so they find themselves sat exactly where they were before they even released the handbrake. One cannot escape his past, cannot escape the stupid things they did. But to make matters worse, they begin to see that so many of the reflective, glaring, fluorescent signs they are bombarded with as they hit the highway begin to contradict each other. They blur, they all look the same, sound the same. It seems impossible to follow one highway code without breaking another. At first, one particularly thoughtful individual might find, there seemed to be one over-arching Way. The irrefutable Tao of the road. The one true way. I miss that idea. I’ve reached a point where no matter how hard I try and see things as I used to, either I changed, or the rules did.

And so those rare unfortunates may find the signs begin to undermine each other. Slow down, but speed up. Be cautious, but never so more than you’re being brazen. Make sure to flaunt every last thing you have and haven’t ever done, because nobody likes It when you brag. And so experience fails you. It begins to lie to you, and even when you’re aware that there is clearly deception afoot, you become a man looking at a map with no reference as to where in the fuck they actually are. It’s at this point in my career as a driver that I also realised that for all the years I had been driving, I could not remember where I was going. I knew that I had been driving for a very long time, and I think at certain points I had stopped off at places, and I still remember the people I picked up. Some of them drove with me for the longest time. I always liked having passengers, but sooner or later, the destination is reached, and the journey has come to an end. But I digress. At a certain point, I found myself lost. It was the worst kind of lost, in that not only did I not know at all where and when I was, but in that I had totally forgotten where I had originally intended to go. I could not even remember at what point I had forgotten everything about myself. All I knew was in looking in the mirror, I was sure I didn’t recognise myself. I could not even describe the person who stared back at me. The Driver was a man about which you could say so much, but I’m quite certain that none of the obvious things you could gleam from that countenance were objectively correct. Nothing I’ve ever experienced has been quite so simple as that. First impressions are hard to resist, however. In a way it didn’t matter that I’m sure in some ways I recognised the Driver’s face, because from the moment I met his eyes with mine, I knew he’d always be a simple mystery to me, destined to be my enemy, the one who knew me the best.

He had the look of the man who has learned from experience as he lit that cigarette. The glow from the lighter revealed a face older and more weathered than I’m sure my own face was. He looked bad. I was certain he didn’t have the slightest good intention in mind for me, and yet everything in his eyes and in the tone of his voice struck me as sincere and well meaning. He spoke to me as if he knew me. We’re on the road now aren’t we? I’ve always loved these warm nights, the heady smell in the air. He grinned, and his eyes lit up. I suddenly felt thirsty. Thirstier than I’ve ever felt in my life. There was adrenaline coursing through my body now, and most of my worry had suddenly receded. As he rolled down the window, an old and child-like excitement crossed his face, as a child who is told on Christmas day that the best present has been saved to last. What does it even matter where we’re going? The pleasure’s in the driving. It’s also in the uncertainty. We passed a strange scene by the side of that long road. This struck me because until now it had all been so blank. There was a cow being led down the road by two men, one in front, and one following up from behind. We passed so quickly that the image struck me as an old black and white picture would have, fixed in my mind without the suggestion of fading. It was like some grim scene from a foreign abattoir, and I felt my spirit drop, knowing where the cow’s destination lay despite all his ignorance. He looked complacent if not slightly confused as to his predicament, being lead by his handlers as he was. For some unknown reason, I honestly felt very sad for him. Then I laughed. Fucker should have evolved faster. I couldn’t but help show the slightest disapproval, even if deep down something in me knew it was true. It would be pretty much the same if the boot was on the other foot. Or hoof. You get my drift. I laughed again, and I wasn’t sure if it was humour or desperation I heard in that laugh. It sounded strange to me, but laughs always sound strange when you really listen to them. Everyone knows what a laugh means, but that shit can’t be found in any dictionary I ever heard of.

quite recently i posted on here regarding my exploits while i was incarcerated, to sum up i was basically leaving my shit all around the prison, smearing shit on other prisoners and myself and just generally being what most people consider revolting with shit.
i have kind of decided to make myself even more objectionable now that i have been released back into the community. my plan involves me commencing a sexual relationship with one of my fellow inmates long time girlfriends, i have already done much of the ground work on this so it can happen when ever i choose basically. the inmate in question is serving a fairly long stretch but after having sex with his gf my plan involved me shitting all over his house. in the bed, on tables and seats smearing the poo all over the place. i would desire to take some photos of my handy work that could be conveyed to him.
i imagine he would be totally infuriated, im going to love hearing about the reaction and fall out over this.

ISSUE-can you permanently delete pics from your computer??

Ok, i am a normal porn loving guy. i come to this fucked up site because i find it amusing. the other day i saw a thread here which says you really can't permanently delete all pics from your computer, and to prove the point it said to download Recuva, which is a highly rated (by CNET)software that recovers deleted pics and other files. it made me NERVOUS. i have seen not just questionable material over the years, but also hard core cp. some of it on this site.

i don't save pics. i never do. and i certainly do not save pics of cp. but being the cautious guy i am, i have been using Window Washer software for years. it is suppose to permanently wipe clean all traces of deleted files (pics, emails, etc.). So i wondered, was this guy's thread correct? Are there really all these images of cp still on my computer? What if the FBI comes knocking (for who knows what reason), or maybe a computer repair guy checks out my computer? if they use this Recuva software, or something like it, will they find illegal material on my computer? in other words, does my Window Washer software really work, or did i get ripped off for $35? one mistake on my part and my life is ruined. so are the lives of my wife and kids. i cannot take chances.

so i downloaded the Recuva and ran it on my computer. i choose the deep scan option. and i choose the option for it to recover only pics as i don't give a shit about emails and stuff. it took about 20 minutes. it came up totally clean. no cp. every pic i saw that it recovered were pics that i had seen in the past few weeks since i last ran the Window Washer software.

Listen gang, i do not work for Window Washer. i am self employed. i am just giving you the heads up. if you are into porn, and if you come across questionable material, then you are absolutely CRAZY if you do not get Window Washer software, or something comparable, to wipe clean your hard drive. it's a snap to run. i do a deep clean anytime i come across questionable material. i let it run overnight. i do it on my work computer and home computer. buy the disk so you can load it on successive computers that you will buy over time. it costs less than a tank of gas. do not put it off.

that's my word to the wise, and to all you other shitheads like me.

I really want to try to pull some sneaky shit with my girlfriend. We've been together two years and our sex life is pretty healthy, but I want to dirty it up a little.

For example, sometimes when we're having sex I tie her wrists and ankles to the corners of the bed and put a blindfold on her. I'm thinking that if I put her face-down or on all fours, I could have a friend fuck her without her even knowing about it. I'd love to watch someone cum in her pussy and play it off like it was me. I'm sure booze wouldn't hurt the effectiveness of that scenario.

I've also fantasized about while she's blindfolded, taking a little cup/vile/whatever of another dude's cum and pouring it right in her pussy, telling her that it's just lube.

Should I do any of this? What else could be fun?